The Winchester Way
by Shinaria
Summary: Castiel shouldn’t have listened to the Winchesters. Now he had to deal with the aftereffects of alcohol.


**Summary: Castiel shouldn't have listened to the Winchesters. Now he had to deal with the aftereffects of alcohol.**

**I don't know. I'm really getting into writing stories of Cas experiencing humanity. It's fun. He's such any easy target. :) Anyone have any suggestions for what else I can do?**

**Any mistakes are mine.**

**--**

**The Winchester Way**

The war was going badly, his kin were dying, and he was confused as to what to do.

Castiel believed he was experiencing depression.

He needed a…break.

But what was an angel to do?

Dean Winchester seemed to know how to help him.

"Now Cas, whenever I get worked up, I get a drink."

"A drink?" He wasn't thirsty. In fact, he had no real need to intake fluids. He was immortal.

"You know, go to a bar, get a beer or something…"

"Dean!" Sam interrupted heatedly. "You're not getting him drunk!"

"Ah, one or two won't hurt, right Cas?"

"Uh…" He wasn't certain. _Beer? _He'd never had a beer.

"Oh, never mind. Come on. I'll show ya the Winchester way of dealing with stress." Dean grabbed his arm and towed him to the bar across the street. "Sammy, ya comin'?"

Sam shook his head, but followed. He had to make sure his brother didn't do anything…stupid. "Yeah."

The bar had a rather gloomy atmosphere, the lights dim and grungy-looking patrons sending suspicious looks their way, making Castiel feel unwelcome. He scanned the rest of the room, seeing a large table in the far corner with a triangular shape holding different colored balls with numbers. A pool table he believed it was called, though he'd never played the game. It didn't seem he would get a chance to either as Dean pulled him up to the counter and made him sit down on one of the cushioned stools. "Bartender, three…" He looked at Castiel. "Three shots of whiskey please."

"Dean, are you nuts?" Sam hissed in his brother's ear. "Shouldn't you give him something light?"

"I'm sure Cas can handle it," Dean said, clapping the angel on the shoulder. "Besides, always cheers me up, no matter how bad the day."

"Because you're too drunk to think straight."

Castiel looked between the brothers. He was beginning to have doubts of trying Dean's 'cheer-up' method.

"Here you go." The bartender passed them their drinks.

Castiel observed his, frowning. It appeared to look like dirty water. "Is it safe to consume?"

"Geez Cas, you need to get out and live a little," said Dean when he saw the angel's reluctance. "You've been up in the clouds too long."

Heaven was not simply 'in the clouds,' but he was unsure of how to explain that to Dean, so he kept it to himself.

"Cas, staring it down isn't going to make it go anywhere either."

Castiel picked up the glass, holding it up to eye level. "Indeed."

Dean sighed. Taking his own drink, he threw his head back and downed it in one swig. He set it back on the table. "See, all there is to it."

Sam merely rolled his eyes, before doing the same.

Castiel hadn't missed the grimaces on either of them after they'd swallowed the liquid. Perhaps he shouldn't be doing this. His shoulders slumped in defeat as they stared at him, waiting. He decided to take a risk.

Copying their movements, he drank it.

And almost sprayed it across the room

Almost.

He gagged, the liquid burning his mouth and down his throat. It took him several minutes to recover, Dean pounding him on the back not helping in the slightest. Tears sprang up in his eyes, despite his best efforts to keep them in. Dean found comfort in this? He should have known better than to ask…

"You okay there, Cas?"

Castiel coughed, his throat feeling raw.

"Here." Dean passed him another.

"You've seriously gone off the wall," Sam muttered to his sibling. "Are you _trying _to kill him?"

For some reason he could not explain, Castiel took the glass and downed it too.

Sam gaped.

"Oh, I think he's going to be fine," Dean said with a grin, and waved the bartender over for more. Sam covered his eyes as he watched the two drink some more.

And more.

They went through an entire bottle.

"Dean?"

Dean snorted. "Wer' doin' jus fine, Sammy…… Righ' Cas?"

The angel turned towards him, a sheepish grin on his face. "Y-yessss…._hic!_" He seemed to sway in his seat.

"Oh God." Sam slapped his forehead. "We are so dead." He wondered what the punishment was for getting an angel drunk.

A small laugh escaped Castiel's throat. Then he stood up unsteadily and began wandering around the bar, his giggles turning into full-fledged laughter.

Yeah, they were so screwed….

--

Eventually the whiskey proved too much for the angel and he passed out cold, right in the arms of the barmaid. To say she was annoyed was a slight understatement.

"Out! Now!" she shrieked.

Sam grimaced as she shoved the unconscious angel towards him. The smell of whiskey was heavy on him. Yeah, Castiel was definitely going to feel that in the morning. Fortunately, Dean wasn't nearly as affected by the alcohol as he'd let on, so he helped his brother carry the angel back to the motel. There they laid him down on one of the rickety flower-quilted beds and waited for him to wake.

Sam already knew that Castiel was by no means going to be a happy angel.

--

His head throbbed painfully, feeling to him as though his brain had been scrambled. He opened his eyes, then shut them tight again, the light doubling the pain. "Ohh…" His stomach churned unpleasantly, making him feel even worse.

"Well look who's finally decided to wake up. Enjoy your beauty sleep, Cas?"

"Dean Winchester," Castiel murmured, his voice hoarse, "What have you done to me?"

"Oh, the splitting headache? That's called a hangover. Kinda happens after you drink through a bottle of hard liquor."

Castiel groaned again.

"Actually, you're a real lightweight. I thought angels could hold their liquor better than that. You're no fun at all…"

Castiel opened his eyes, managing to keep them open this time. "I am not here for your amusement."

"Sure you are, Cas," Dean said, grinning broadly. "Man, you got so frisky with that barmaid last night. I mean, wow!"

"Dean!" Sam cried.

Castiel paled. "I-?" He did not remember such a thing. Then again, he found he didn't remember much at all after his second drink. His eyes widened in shock.

"Nice going," Sam mumbled, elbowing Dean in the side. "Now he's tainted for life." He looked at the angel. "Or…whatever…"

Dean shook him off and watched Castiel wince again in obvious pain. "Don't worry, Cas. We'll fix you right up." He helped the angel sit up on the bed and shoved a small white box under his nose. "A cheeseburger will clear that up in no time."

Castiel took one whiff of the greasy food, and his face turned a sickly shade of green. Sam saw the sudden change and shoved his sibling aside, quickly pulling Castiel into the small bathroom. A moment later, a loud retching sound could be heard.

"Guess not," Dean mumbled to himself. "Oh well." He grabbed the burger and took a large bite. It always helped him at any rate. "Mmmmm."

Sam poked his head out of the bathroom. "You know we're going to Hell for this, right?"

Dean shrugged. "Might as well enjoy the ride."

"Ugh." Sam shook his head. Why did he put up with this?

--

As Castiel emptied the contents of his stomach into the ceramic basin, the majority of it whiskey, he realized that the next time he was looking for a break, it was best not to look for it from the Winchesters.

_A lesson well learned, _he thought, before nausea overcame him again. He would leave the 'Winchester way' to the Winchesters.

**End**

**I know, I'm mean to poor Cas.**

**Reviews are awesome!**


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